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I Write Poetry

I play with words, but I’m not sure why I write poetry. One day I just felt the need to try! I write poetry! It fills my heart with such delight. Oh, could I ever stop? Can you keep the sparrow from the sky? I write poetry. With pen in hand, I wait to hear the whispers of my muse. Soon enough, the verses multiply! I write poetry. At times the words come over-flowing; but sometimes a phrase flits as if it were a butterfly. I write poetry. I strive to capture flutter-words! They are so beautiful. Amazed am I when I can’t deny I write poetry! I’ll see a sunset, taste first snow, or smell a ruby rose. Mother Nature I must glorify; I write poetry. A poetess I call for myself as one who loves sweet rhythm. God willing, may I say till I die - I write poetry. For Julie Rodeheaver's 'What inspires you to write poetry' Poetry Contest Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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The joys of aging go like this.

You reap what you invested in your offspring.
As you watch with awe them spread their wings.

You have no one to tell you what to do.
Now the foot is in the other shoe.

God willing, you own your own home.
So no worries about any bank loan.

At work, you're at the top of your game.
But can think of retiring all the same.

You have time to spend writing poetry.
Instead of emptying a toddler's potty.

Although the bones may creek a bit.
You can still boogie if you take a fit.

Leisure time is yours to spend.
As you reunite with old friends.

Now that you know yourself inside out.
You're at peace with you and those about.

Although alone, if you believe in love and care,
the world's your oyster if you dare.

Gosh, on reflection, we're doing well.
I'm suddenly under old age's spell.

Written especially for Tom Arnold.

Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2016

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Everyday American Irritations


Copyright © Charles Pullen | Year Posted 2016

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Biological Egg Donor

So far it's been 35 years since I started to roam the Earth, You only stood in my life from birth until i was 11months then left me with no trace not even a word.

I try to forget about you but in my mind you still creep in, Why put me through this mental torture was I such a sin ? I'm surprised you didn't throw me into a trash bin.

At times I fall asleep with tears in my eyes wondering what was your reasons for disappearing, also wondering if you did the same to my unknown siblings.

In fact it's a whole half of my bloodline that I don't know, Did you even advise them of my existence ? How can you as a "Woman" have a Heart so cold ?

As I grew older I tried to track you exhausting many options and logic, I guess I have better chances of meeting Jesus before we ever discuss this topic.

I was raised by my Paternal side of the Family who nurtured and watched me grow, Now I found the Woman who I will soon marry God willing adopt some children and start my own Family.

I am not poor nor am I rich 1 thing's for sure I will never be like you you disgraceful Witch, The pains you have caused me I would never wish on another since you decided to run and go in to deep cover, I'm glad I don't have to refer to you as a Biological Mother.

By: Shawn Muñoz

Copyright © Shawn Munoz | Year Posted 2016

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At the entrance of evening, the melting sun slowly drips
     over the tree top horizon;
Beckoning the moon to peak through the opaque shades
     As lazy winds play tag with the heated night.

The staccato symphony of horny crickets pervade the scene
     Piercing the stoical still silence with melodic sounds.
Weighed eyes and muffled ears grow weary…
     Retreating the scene and its sounds.

Sleep, the stranger of the day, threatens familiarity:
     None can avoid her acquaintance.
Unable to complete, I slip into the twilight of dreams
     Knowing not if I shall greet tomorrow here.

God willing and Earth’s water baptize my eyes, maybe,
     Just maybe, I will rise to fight another day.

So in this twilight dim, I pray my childhood
     Prayer to Him:

   " Now I lay me down to sleep.
    I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
    If I should die before I wake;
   I pray the Lord my soul to take."

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

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Love just waved goodbye

      Don’t cry for me when I’m gone ~ I’ve forgiven you ~ it's time to move on

 I understand ~ we’ve all had our doubts ~ and our fears made us act them all out

Don’t cry about things of yesterday ~ know that somehow, God willing, we’ll work it out someday

               So as I  walk away ~ tears fill my eyes ~ and we both cry 

                                    Love just waved goodbye

Copyright © Arturo Michael | Year Posted 2018

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Rouging of the Lamb B

        Sweet Mother of pearl
struck a ruby eyed reef 
then quickly sank into the deep,
just shy of the cay of life. 
Don't remember much about her,
those that did have long since blown away,
daddy  never had much to say... about the sinking.
Ancient pictures tempered fawn curiosities..
whispered to me that she had sunset red hair
a mother of pearl smile..
diamond chips set deep in lonely eyes...that's about it
 Soon after the sediment of death settled,
         "wrecking ball mom"
swung into the salty blue mix... 
Daddy must have been moon rock lonely
because he only saw the soft, silky pretty
not the pyrite heart 
soul licked
by cold, cold fires....
     A much to young, to cuddle a half orphan, kind of bride.
In public her voice cooed ,
"I'll buoy your little sinking heart,
with a million butterfly kisses
chocolate chip all your wishes"...
but in private
she plotted, with steely strap, to carve a granite man 
from a wandering lamb,
who never really needed carving 
only a little gentle kneading
on the potters wheel of life and love.
     I spent a healthy wedge of childhood 
treading a rolling ocean of dorsal fin coldness:
cutting a backyard full of weeds 
with a pair of rusty hand shears,
rescuing favorite toys from the garbage can
staring into plates of things I didn't like to eat.
like asparagus my least favorite "anti-treat".
Everyone would drift into the living room
to frolic away the evening
but I was chained to her electric chair... 
gazing into a saucer filled with those green devil spears..
At times I sat so long the food would harden 
into the face of  mother of  pearl, 
her sweetness trapped between rows of bitter things.. 
a gone forever kind of look in our mutual deadened eye.
    Most of the time wrecking ball mom won the food battles. 
Rarely did the boy under the bed come out on top.
One night I'm sparring with the devil spears... again,
deciding on a whim, to slide them under the table, 
into the willing jaws of my beagle friend.
Chalk one up for the half orphan...right?....Not so fast.
The next day I shuffle home from school...
wrecking ball mom is frothing in the doorway,
wants to show me something..
She quickly leads me under the kitchen table
and to my ,deep green, horror..
there lay a small forest of day old asparagus..
Seems this is the one thing my best friend didn't care for.
This is when I was first introduced to 
wrecking ball's wicked handiwork,
that would often rouge the face and back, 
but cunning enough not to crease or crack the lamb.
I saw "hitting stars" for the first time,
wham.... wham.. 
I swear a cluster of explosions went off inside my head..
Carving a man out of a paper lamb 
was a long and painful sort of task.
In a way I felt lucky because, for a moment, 
I thought she was going to rub my nose into the regurgitation, 
Just like the time she rubbed the nose of my best friend for pissing up her new bride carpet.
By the way, daddy (the swing shifter) was oblivious to these rougings ...
its ok daddy your fully forgiven for wearing that rose colored hard hat,
we all must wear it at some point in time-to deflect the offal of life.
       Anyhow, that was many years ago...
doesn't really matter anymore,
I've outlived a few best friends.
the wrecking ball's backhanding and black belting days are over. 
She's silver headed and soft as a plate of over cooked veggies...
Every time I visit, I fantasize about rouging her...
wham- wham
until she sees that same pack of hitting stars...
wham- wham until she cracks...
You know, carve an old step bride 
into an under the sink child.
rub that nose in yesterday's piss in honor of my best dead friend.
Unveil those wrinkled whips disguised as mommy hands,
for the whole rosy eyed world to finally see.
but that fantasy will forever go unfulfilled...god willing..
So instead I offer her an atlantic ocean-cold hug instead.
just like any good, semi-forgiving step man would do.
Now, I'm heart deep 
in the meloncholy mist of fatherhood..
To this day, I won't touch asparagus
never never 
rouge the lamb- 

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013

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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 4

The Lay of The Best Man - Part 4

I ask you this: Have you ever known a man to ‘buckle under stress’?
Or have you never seen a man have a ‘moment of madness’?
Have you not heard about the unfortunate Child Physician.?
Lynch-mob [illiterate] shout “Paedo!!”… at a Paediatrician?!?!
Have you never heard of the man who acted upon ‘voices’ in his head?
May be true, may be false, who knows? But he’s left another… dead!

Where are all your Psychiatrists? Surely the world should be safer!
They claim to understand man’s mind so that we do not ….suffer.
Where are all your …..Psychologists - to prevent the incessant rot?
Have they not simply compounded the demise of your lot?
Tell me: of what good is the skilled Physician that has just saved a life…
Only to drive recklessly …..and then kill another man’s wife?

Look at the ‘nice’ man right beside you, and please confirm my advice.
Is he sexist/racist/homophobic or xenophobic? Call that ‘nice’?
Any form of hatred or bigotry exposes man to vitiated practise
All forms of prejudice renders the mind to miscarriages of justice.
The Road to Perfection may be arduous and impossibly long
But the Road to Perdition is a short-cut to where the Damned belong.

I’ve seen men baulk at good advise with sheer revulsion.
The truth of my words will be made manifest by their very reaction.
They shall think me sanctimonious and await my downfall
Or wish me harm and set their traps to defeat my life-protocol.
Come ‘Dies Irae’, I shall be triumphant, ‘Deus Volente’
‘Initium Sapientiae Timor Domini’ ……that, surely, is my stay!

I’ve seen men cold and calculating they orchestrate violence
Any scapegoat will do, to this end, they manipulate evidence.
Taking innocent lives, they have bayed lustfully with the pack
For fun, sport, or revenge, unjustly thrill in beastly attack.
With merciless disregard for person or property, they blight.
Dishing out ruthlessness, whether victim be in the wrong - or right.

All is not well with the world yet most flatly refuse to see the worst in mankind.
This just proves that both they and the rabble are truly one-of-a-kind.
They live life as though everything is fair - as in a ‘quid pro quo’ bazaar
The ‘Extraterrestrial’ asks "How are things?"; they reply: comme ci comme ca…
May I please suggest a tete-a-tete and insist: ‘come, Sir, …come see’….
All is not as it seems, for man’s first love is for ‘self’,  and not for humanity! 

Why do so many still denigrate a woman and take her for granted?
Despite what you say, deep within many, I know it’s been indoctrinated.
She may seem strange to you, but maybe you’re just as strange to her!
She is your equal …and ‘respect’ is not the preserve of one gender over another.
You may think you are big and mean, but it doesn’t mean she’s weaker …. cowed.
Her spirit is much more stronger, therefore you cannot break her! Coward!

Can a woman do what she wants with her body? Of course! Why kick up a stink??
Can a girl wear heels and dress all in pink? That’s her choice. What do you think??
Should she be able to walk in safety at all hours - in skimpy dress? Ideally: Yes.
Should she be comfortable with her gender without duress? Definitely! What else?
These things that she does, are never the problem and never a crime. That’s fact.
The many problems and crimes that disrupts her life are mainly men!!! …How they act.

There can be no argument that there are a few good men - very few indeed.
Those who will not stand by and gawp as they see a dying man bleed.
Yes, it is true that the first instinct of man is to assist the victim in need.
But for some, temptation grows, along with the dark shoots of greed.
How easily a good heart can get corrupted should be a warning to heed!
Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas, ….. this is the mainstay of man’s seed.

Of course I expect many to read [and mock] my work. I say to them: Good luck.
Continue to pretend that this world and it’s stock is not running amok.
One man is repulsed by another because they are of a different race?! Pah!!
Do you realise you’ve just inhaled the same air that once exited his face? Hah!!!
You can call it racism, jingoism, …..or if you prefer, plain old ‘prejudice’….
Sadly it will never end (let’s not pretend), as we head for the final precipice!

(The Fg 81.5.8)

Comme ci, comme ca  & …tete-a-tete (French) -  Like this like that &  ‘….head to head’ discussion

‘Deus Volente’ (Latin) - God Willing

Dies Irae (Latin) - Day of Wrath

‘Initium Sapientiae Timor Domini (Latin) - The Fear of The Lord is the Beginning of Wisdom.

Quid pro quo (Latin)  - Something for something

Vanitas, vanitatum, omnia vanitas (Latin) - Vanity upon vanities, all is vanity!

Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2016

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i'm so in love with you''

when i met you i diden't know our hearts 
were goinga be one. 
i did not know you was goinga rock my world with just the sight of a glo.
you have made me love again to feel there is light after the darkness .
i know this is love in my heart /and soul because 
when i'm with you i am the most happyest  woman in the whole world 
and i pray deep down in my soul you feel the way i love you 
you always want me here with you too never let me go.

i have found my soulmate the one i'd die for the one i wanna love and live for 
for the rest of my life here on earth i wanna share my life / my love and all my been with you . i just hope you feel my heart as i feel this way for you. i will never part you and never betray you you are my life time soul mate . 
i pray each night you feel my soul as i feel yours if only in  our dreams .
someday i wish to be your wife and too be yours forever . 
and you be mine. 
god willing we will see it through because there's know truer love me me or you .

Copyright © alisa cook | Year Posted 2011

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Moving Away

How safe can your world possibly be 
when even the school principal lines you up a couple of inches from a cinder-block wall 
and punches you in the chest against the wall as he questions you.  

You cannot tell your parents.  
You have no one to speak to about this. 
There is no one.  
There is no one to tell.  
This world is very dangerous.  
It will not let you be anything you want to be.  
It will beat you if it needs to, 
to stop you from living your life.  
It will not let you be who you are.  
It will trap you again and again 
until finally you are spirited away into another world, 
God willing, not so bad.  

And up at the top of the hill, your Mississippi mother knows too, 
that it is too dangerous to be who you are.  
So she too will try to not let you.

Connecticut and Mississippi have more in common than I used to think.  

But now you have to carry all of that burden from Canner Street with you.
Inside, nowhere to tell it. 
as a fester.  
Hampering your every move to outdistance it.  

But most importantly you have no experience of living your life, 
no confidence in a world of sheer danger.  
A world always just a heartbeat away even when you think you are safe. 

Today it is a very progressive school. 
Its darker secrets gone, swept away in gentrification.  
The early post-war infusion of immigrants 
replaced largely by college grad students, 
with high expectations

How do we live such different lives.
How does life keep trying over and over.
I don't know.  I don't know.


Copyright © Fitz Cook | Year Posted 2011

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Love Unique

Just married…..

The suns in dropping, the drapes are drawn.
The table is set, candles burn on.
Anxiously she waits, for her handsome prince.
Sitting on the curb, excited and tense!
She gazes, at the apartment’s entry.
She dreams of their life, and love of plenty.
As he approaches this grand estate:
In his sight, is his sexy soul mate!
Raptured by her astonishing beauty:
His kiss of love, comes not by duty!

Raising children…

The laundry is piled, mountain high.
Kids are fighting, and suppers nigh.
Grocery shopping was put on hold.
Oh’ this routine, is getting real old!
Tired and dirty, he walks through the door.
Stepping on toys that are left on the floor!
He says; “honey I’m home, what’s for dinner?
I sure am hungry; I hope it’s a winner”! 
She glares at him, as if in disgust.
Let’s take out, because tonight I’m crushed!

Back to two…..

Kids are now grown, and fear sets in.
Where is that girl, and boy of then?
She’s striving hard, to break her mold.
In her writings, her heart is told!
After toiling, yet another day:
Honey, I’m home, he just can’t say!
Totally burned out, and just ready to doze:
A life of fishing, he does quickly propose!
Gently her lips caress his cheek.
Then fear does vanish, love unique!

To be continued (God Willing)....

Stacey Brown

Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2014

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love won

two came together, 
not knowing how to be there for the other, 
they say ignorance is bliss, 
but how could they miss, 
they made love when they made you 

you surrender to a troubled past, 
defiance was never gonna last, 
i can't help but remember my own, 
and now I know, 
it's time to stop staring and start the caring, 
a better me and god willing, a better you    

don't fear as you pedal on by, 
an entire team of angels is by your side, 
its the demons that twinkle in the spokes, 
turning you 'round and 'round, 
whispering just get the f out of here

girl this lost and found ain't no home, 
i told you that i'd never leave you, 
but you still weather the storms on your own, 
try and set aside apprehension, 
let's not point fingers, 
we know pain is to blame

life doesn't have to be truth or dare,  
the scales lie if they say loves not for you,
stained glass pictures of beauty and grace, 
demons hide within the chapel window panes, 
as you stroke the keys urging notes to take you away,
dreaming of a better day,
you can do this girl,
and i'm here to stay

two came together, 
not knowing how to be there for the other, 
they say ignorance is bliss, 
but how could they miss, 
they made love when they made you - 


Copyright © Jim Cross | Year Posted 2015

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Tomorrows Soldier

I am alone
No food no water
No mother no father
I am a shell

I am afraid
I shiver
The night’s cold
I long for the warmth of.......

ISIS shall be your blanket
We shall provide you the warmth
We shall feed you
My little one, here is your gun

We shall march forth to other villages
Together God willing we shall avenge your sorrows
Tomorrows soldier, is now fully trained
Blood and Allah his new found allies

Brothers in arms
The little boy
The soldier who slaughtered his future
Together, bonded in wars of hate

The dawn of the morning
When even evil slumbers and sleeps
A Butterfly flutters with the rising sun
Looking sadly upon this orphan

The future soldier has never seen such beauty
He can’t help but steal a smile from his past
The Fritillary speaks softy not to awaken the army of hate
I bring you life little one and news from above

Confused the little one stares
The butterfly speaks yet again
Mother and father now weep for you
Tears fall from the heavens little one

Mother Father? but they are dead!
No little one, they have passed on only
Saddened by your pain and unhappiness
They wait patiently to give you back your laughter

Must I die? Must I? To be with them again?
No little one, you must live, fully
You must have love and compassion
So that the heavens and the earth shall cease the tears

Who are you butterfly, so wise and meek?
I am you little one and I am god
The butterfly hugged this future soldier
The orphan felt the warmth of such strong wings

A miracle for sure the little one thought
As he dropped his weapon
Truly happy, for his path he now knew
He ran away from the battle, in utter euphoria  


The old soldier of Allah’s wars
Once a young boy long ago
With eyes so cold
Shot the little one in the back

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

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I once, led a very dull life!
Had lots of trouble and strife!
        Then I got some advice,
        didn’t have to think twice,
it was suggested, I needed a wife!

For a while, my search was in vain!
For what reason, I couldn’t explain!
        I just couldn’t find,
        what I had in mind,
it was always, the same old refrain.

I kept trying, though I had low esteem.
And my patience, was weak so it seemed.
        Then one day, without warning,
        it was early one morning,
I encountered, the girl of my dreams!

Turns out, we just couldn’t wait,
and soon we started to date.
        Right from the start,
        she stole my heart,
I discovered, it’s never too late!

Now, I was bursting with pride!
At having her here, by my side!
        So we purchased some rings,
        and a few wedding things,
and soon, she was my blushing bride!

The best day of my life, I must say,
no doubt, was my wedding day!
        My love, I can’t measure,
        she’s my most, valued treasure!
God willing, that’s how it will stay!

Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR | Year Posted 2010

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The power behind the pen

A pen
can make you friends,
or it can make
a friendship end.

But I use my pen, 
to meet my ends 
and if God willing,
make some friends.

There will be times,

 when your pen will offend 
and also leave happy grins. 

you still need to be cautious 
on what you write with your pen, 
cause this tends to attract 
your selfish greedy friends. 

You know the ones, 
ever time they see food,
their mouths open
and their elbows bend.

Copyright © Mark Gravett | Year Posted 2014

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Up And Down

 Your love for me came out of the blue
 It was an early falls mourning
 And for what you said I had little warning
 I ran from your words, I ran from you
Consciousness dancing its way across the ceiling
 For you I had more than feelings
 Telling myself that only if God willing
 Caught in my own thoughts about lives dealings
Hoping the door would open when I got to it
 My stomach aching like I was having a fit
 All things inside of me fell into an open pit
 Caught within your sites and my answer might of gotten me hit
I had to run and hide
 I was turning into knots inside
 Wishing my spirit to take flight
 I was left here standing and I had to fight
Hiding I was already in love there was no decision
 Then I felt my brain go off on its own a get away mission
 Caught there with only my feelings
 And my acquaintances with love left my mind fizzin
Of being stuck in my own vision
 About negligence and loves killins
 And it was all I could do
 Was fall down and stay up by kneeling

Copyright © Courtney Courtney | Year Posted 2012

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"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
Each word a diamond shines
Each note a music that rhymes
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
So precious, so tender, so pure
Filled with love so rare
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
A bit of a rainbow, in a grey sky
A white dove that can’t fly
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
A pink horizon, breaking dawn
A deer with a suckling fawn
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
The hanging dew drenched berries
Snow covered red cherries
"I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . ."
Taste but with your heart open
And God willing you’ll touch the sun
For I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it is my gift to you . . .

By Tahera Mannan
For Constance’s “ Writing in the Sublime” contest

Copyright © Tahera Mannan | Year Posted 2011

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I have heard people declaim
That Africa is the dark continent
Plagued by war, sickness and famine
The aridity of such a claim
Has left my people to pine.

Yes, I grant through the years,
Africa has suffered from war, famine, and sickness.
Yet, dear reader, is it Africa alone?
From East to West,
Death has reared himself a throne.
I beseech thee, O reader, let thy ear be attentive
To the confessions of Robin.
For these declamations
Have led many into error. 

It is not my intention
To absolve Africa of her share of the blame
Yet my beloved continent, 
Is both home to the good and the bad
The best and the worst
Why then dwell only, on all that is base.
Lineal son of Africa that I am
My heart bleeds - 
Seeing that the soothsayers and naysayers
Are moving among our villages and cities
Congesting our airwaves
Shamefully declaring
That the Ides of March have come
Unlike Caesar, I dare - reply that they haven’t come and will never come!
For mine experiences have taught me a lot of things
And I dare you to discard that label hoary
Coined many and many years ago by many a missionary.
Allow me then to tell you Africa’s story
For that is my sole ambition. 

Of her past glory
I will say no more
For the pyramids of Egypt will testify for eternity
The Great Zimbabwe Ruins
Stand tall and erect in the Savannah plains
A monument to the greatness of their builders
Don’t you dare believe that fable
Told to many a school boy in colonial Africa days gone by
That mine ancestors could not create such a piece of art
Just go to my village this day
And you will see many stonehouses standing
A testimony to our heritage. 
Her natural beauty is second to none
Heaven, excluded - for I am talking to men not angels.

Since I am weary 
Let me tarry. God willing will continue tomorrow!

Copyright © Robin Tinavo Mashingaidze | Year Posted 2011

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Cabbie With A Heart

Cabbie with A Heart

This latest news about a selfless taxi driver…
The kindness out of his heart is a source for wonder ….
In the daily business of ferrying his charges for a fee…
He works long hours , morning till dusk before going off free ….

As a family man like any other, he provides for his family with his daily takings..…
Time is ever precious,  more ferrying means better daily earnings…  
Just as any other hard working Malaysian, he always there to give service…
Doing his utmost best each day in providing  a transportation service…

For a working man such as he, where time and his service  means money…
It  surprises to know this taxi driver willingly sacrifices his time and money….
All for an aged yet loving couple, who are yet to be classified as senior citizens..
Who are only in their late forties and yet the woman has chronic kidney disease…

This stricken woman requires a thrice-a-week treatment at the dialysis center….
The fare is an exorbitant RM30 to pay even if the center is but a short drive away 
It is always a trying time to hail for a taxi willing to take them to the center..
For the word is out that they are unable to pay the full fare, even not at all..

One fine day, as they scoured in vain for a taxi to take them to the  center..…
Up came Mr Jong, an elderly and sprightly taximan, willing to ferry them over…
The kind hearted soul in him accepts only RM20 for his service, if possible..
He’s such a good man, giving discounted rides and payments in installments.. 

Taxi driver Jong, 61 years old, thinks he is doing something simple…
Out of the goodness in his heart, he is now on their call three times-a-week…
It matters not, Jong wisely observes, I am Chinese and they are Malays in need…
God willing, I will stay healthy and I trust them to pay me when they able indeed..

So fellow Malaysians, do marvel at this display of humanity on the streets…
There are countless other good deeds being played out that are not called to heed…
But this episode runs contrary to the prejudices and the mistrust on racial lines..
It calls for brotherhood love, as the same colored blood runs common beneath our  skins..

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

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Afraid of the dark

Afraid of the dark,I am you see,
For when I was little someone raped me.
Those fears and terrors still fill my heart,
afraid my mind is being torn apart.
I cannot see when all is dark black,
who is this with me,caught in the sack?
Please leave me be,do me no more harm,
it's been years and still there are tears.
All of my nights I run and I hide.
Deep in my mind a safe place to be,
no one can touch me,no one you see.
Not even life's worst misery.
I must keep running,it must not end,
must keep going,don't let it blend.
Eye's of tears,heart and mind full of fears,
It's been painful to many years.
My innocence stolen,
my joy taken away,
Please help me Lord,
Please help me I pray!
I am safe with my loved ones,
under the moon,because of God's son.
Still unaware of peace in my bed,
I feel afraid,the night I dread.
Hands tremble,body curled up,
mind is racing super speed,
I want to be loved,I feel the need!
Please don't hurt me like those nasty men did,
I hated them,God willing,he they will rid!
No place to turn,no place to run,
hiding and fighting,i'm only one.
Such wretched memories still haunt me each day,
please go away,
never to stay in a sane mind,
I need to relax,need to unwind.
Nobody knows the horror I've lived,
don't understand?
Tell me what gives?
I feel alone in my own world small,
like curling up into a small ball.
Somebody help me,
I can't do it alone.
I'm tired of running from all my fears,
tired of pain,tired of tears.
Tired of dying inside,through out the years.
Help me to live in a new way,
to live for tomorrow,and also today.
Help bring peace back into my mind,
Please help me ,please be kind.
But who do I turn to,who do I trust?
 I've been hurt by many!
Is there anyone,not one,not any?
I'm alone in my world of fear,
don't get to close,you may shed a tear.
Get to know me and all of my pain,
no wonder i'm mental,a little insane.
To much to lose,and much more to gain.
In a world full of pain and sorrow,
I can only hope and pray for tomorrow.
My dreams are real,it happened again,and once more,
please make it stop,,
I can't handle no more!
Dreams remind me every day,
theres got to be a way,
for peace of mind and a better day.
Please,please,I beg and I pray.

Dedicated to all those who have ever been a victim like me,
Have faith,God will make a way!

Copyright © Susan Grado | Year Posted 2006

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Bombers Moon

Them and us under a Bombers Moon
By Steven Cooke

Making love to my demons
Under the flag of my country
Caught in between the never believer
And a pardon of angels,
Who bargain their souls for my redemption,
Empowered by a nation,
Glorified by heroes departed
My life sanctified by religious compromise
For tonight I fly, under the bombers moon

Nearer to God than most
I see the world differently,
This Earth orbits in a sea of cold
My plane hidden in its recess,
A place where silent screams dwell
And rainbows are sent to die.

Away from the gaze of my enemy,
A phrase worthy of the Devil
Away from the patriots sting,
These too, sanctified by a religious hand.
The History books dilemma
My run begins
My mind listens to a confess of whispers,
The engines my Priest,
The bomb doors open,
Horsemen of The apocalypse,
Released from their tethers
I am the Arbiter of Death
As in Nature, Chance will decide
The faceless will fall
And god willing I will return home.

In the scheme of things
A Cities worth is one minute, 23 seconds
The camera to record in slow mo for Posterity,
And to delight the victorious.
The Impact sweeps away the sweat of past generations
Creates queues of ghosts, waiting,
 To lay in row after row, of white marble.
Their silent screams absorbed into Heavens Gate,
A cold Hallelujah for God to judge.
Just another day on planet earth

But don’t worry,
Time, like, the brook of sighs, will wash away these sins
But not the seeds,
For we are the gardeners of sin,
Their germination, lovingly corrupted
In our differences, them and us
The Pillars of capitalism our advantage.
The fear of the Devil theirs

Our final epitaph in the circle of life,
We are conditioned to repeat the mistakes of the past,
As is the Wilder beast to cross the River of Death,
Or theologians using religion as a weapon of war
The devil and the Crocodile dines well, on such a menu 
We truly are, a blessed Race.

Copyright © steven cooke | Year Posted 2011

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Cave Man

                    '" CAVE'"    =(:-)'s>>>
We weren't married
  By a Pastor at Church
In-stead we were married
       In a Cave
Yes, we took our vowel's
     By me dragging
Her by her hair
   Dragging her home
           To the Cave
Like a Slave
The same Cave that we
          Bared our Cave Children
    The same Cave
The one with-out the Den
He promised to build a bigger house
But, he has been saying that....
            Since I don't know when...
But, the Cave Woman
      She loved her kitchen's nitch
That is where she cook the game
She would you want it salt?
           Or plain....
Fore it took so much to cook a meal
It depend on what Cave Man father could
Either kill or steal...
He left this morning
To get him a snack
It was either a giant turtle
Or a brontosaurs
But dinner would attack'
Today, the equivalent of an BIG MAC.
But, never the least
The Big Mac did attack'
He knew with-out stake sauce
Or butter, that He would never
Get back
There is no telling how Cave Mother might...
 Act....or react!
Who ever knew how long it would take
If I could catch him
Would he taste just like stake...
Or a Slim Jim..    
We lowered it home
Took him to the house'
Either it would be him
Or would have to settle
For Mouse.
We lowered it home'
And took him last evening'
We saved the mouse...
We lowered it home
And took him in-to the house
We ate him last evening
We saved the mouse....
That Cave Woman did what
She could, fore she had four
Cave Children....
Their chances' of starving were
Good....God willing.....
That is a fact of life that was
Really understood..
She started a fire
With a stick and a rock
She put then together
The fire was hot
That brontoburgar surely
Hit the spot...
They ate what they could
And saved the rest for later
They had no refrigerator
So, they gave the rest to
The family who sat at the table
Who would eat it much later

************SEE CAVE MAN 11********
                        To be continued...

Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2011

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My Sister and Me

We grew up like twins, but one year apart.
As young women we lived thru each milestone.
Our lives reconnected from time to time,
When husbands were gone, kids out on their own.
Now back together we live side by side.
In old age we’re a comical pair, and,
With our bad knees when we come to a curb,
She helps me up, then I give her a hand!
She’s always there during good times and bad. 
A bond like ours is strong and somewhat rare,
So we’ve made a vow to reach eighty two,
Then GOD willing add a few years from there.

We are as close as two siblings can be…
A match made by GOD, my sister and me.

Copyright © Betty Janko | Year Posted 2016

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What I want from a partner

These are the things I look for in a life partner and the things that I make need to be 
Happy and Harmonious......Pleasant so too speak....In my life..........
A partner who is kind spirited and not opiniative and judgemental.
A partner who is considerate and compassionate to all people and not jelouse and 
A partner who is God willing and not relentless.
A partner with strength aquired from patiants and willingness and not cunningness 
and pride.
A partner who is self-serviant and self-disaplined and not self-seeking and 
A partner who learns wisdom from regrets instead of teaching and implying 
A partner with empathy and not self-pity.
A partner who is industrious and goal oriented and not lacking sweat from hard 
work and the drive to optain those goals.
A partner who is humble and not complimentive and materialistic. 
A partner who doesnt let oppression confine him from the things that he wants.
A man who is stronger then my faults and weaknesses,who will put it first on his 
list to protect all women and children.
And lastly..........The ONE that will not let me fall from GRACE.
These things I do trust.

Copyright © Alicia Diel | Year Posted 2007

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I woke up this morning.. and if GOD willing u woke up too.. Cause if you’re looking at the sky that I am that means we’ve made it through!!!! To another day….But what’s to be expected?? Through the mind it may drift, As we break into the day like thy unknown abyss… It’s always a risk. But we take it all the same, though we may come from different places have different color faces and for each a different name…. The certainty of it all is that were all up against the same fake... And from that fact there’s no mistake…. Though we may take different paths ….Trying to hold on to the rush of life for as long as it may last… And that rush can come from many different things…If it’s unknown to us or we don’t agree we’ll deem it strange.. Then stand in judgment staring waiting to slander and defame,. For no greater reason than that what brings you joy and happiest, Isn't for them and with no relation, brings frustration, for their life is lived moment to moment in restraint.. A open mind is the same as being forced to walk the plank Really feeling the lack of joy and happiest is what makes them want to offer you their pain…. But a woman like me knows how to take shelter from their rain… For GOD woke me up this morning!!! I feel blessed and so should you. But if not!!! Hey that’s ok too…. Because every day I wake I take refuge in the fact that I’ve lived and I am very aware of the EVIL MAN WILL DO!!! And who I am he knows all about and I have faith that he’ll see me through. So I step into my day strong forever feeling eyes.... Which isn't a surprise, But I’m so grateful to be here!!! That even with all the persecution and hate around me I'll be stepping without a care.... . For he woke me up this morning and I always feel him near. The world's pre and misjudgments of me have no penetration there's no relation just frustration. That my father told me that he is the only one whom shall FEAR. So you go and have a wonderful day my dear!!!

Copyright © Kib G | Year Posted 2011